


Small Worlds, Big Hearts

by deathrae



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Exploring Relationships, I'm not sure if the rating will get higher later on but that's a possibility, Missing Scene, Multi, how friendships become more, post-KH2, pre-KH3D, teeangers trying to get their shit together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 04:23:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4507623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathrae/pseuds/deathrae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coming back through the door from the Dark Margin doesn't mean the story's over. There's a world that's too small to return to and way too many emotions and scars on three keyblade-wielding adults who should've by all rights still been children.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small Worlds, Big Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted from tumblr under the username death-rae. Got a lot of people asking me to continue, so...let's give it a go?

When they surfaced on the play island, the water sliding up under his shirt helped a little to push away the lingering aching in his body, enough that he didn’t wince when Mickey launched at him, didn’t flinch too hard when Kairi hugged him.

When they got back to the main island, a flurry of hugs and fingers jabbing into his chest made his face progressively darker, but he took a page from Sora’s book and smiled as much as he could, if only to put his family and the others’ families at ease.

Kairi insisted that they all spend the night in one place, if only to reassure herself that they were really, truly back… and not about to run off again. Their parents made a few aborted protesting noises, but it seemed Kairi had ingratiated herself to _both_ their families while they were gone, because their moms just looked at each other, then at her, and smiled what Riku thought were oddly sad, patient smiles, and agreed, so long as the boys were back home the next day.

He and Sora were promptly set up in the guest room across from Kairi’s bedroom, but he had the distinct impression that no one for a _second_ , not even the mayor, thought they were going to all stay separated for long. When Sora saw the big double bed, shrugged, and took a running dive onto the left side, Riku just sighed, shook his head, and carefully arranged himself among a little nest of pillows so that his body stopped protesting about this whole “moving about” nonsense for once.

Kairi followed them in, sat at the end of the bed, and stared at them both, _waiting_ , because there hadn’t been time before and they’d both promised answers and then Sora _grinned_ , eyes alight, and all the words spilled out of him in long flowing threads. The sunset angled through the windows as his voice, buoyant and light and warm with fondness and excitement and drama by turn, filled the room, except for the occasional interruption for Riku to clarify some details Sora was missing or getting confused.

Riku didn’t realize how long the whole thing was until Sora stopped, the clock on the side table flashing one-digit hours. He was done with his side, and then both of them looked at him, quiet, let Riku pick up the parts no one else could tell. As he talked, he heard his own voice shift—soft and faltering at first, but growing in ease and smoothing out until he was sharing everything, calm and just as warm as Sora, if without some of Sora’s flair for the theatrical. He found that it was easier, now, without the coat, without the blindfold, and with the matching, easy smiles of his friends inviting him to keep going.

When he was done, and Kairi had her last few questions answered, they settled into an oddly comfortable silence. Kairi eventually shifted to sit between them, resting against Riku’s shoulder and tucking her hand into Sora’s. Riku thought Sora made a little noise of surprise, then another of comfortable acceptance, and they settled into place, and nothing had ever felt so comfortable as this, as breathing.

Riku listened to the waves outside as Sora and Kairi’s breathing slowed, evened out, slid just a little to match the rhythm of the tide, the way only Destiny Islanders could. He pressed his nose into Kairi’s hair, just for a moment, just lightly enough not to wake her, and between her hair and Sora’s hand tucked into Riku’s vest (when had that happened?) he breathed in sunshine and sand, and he knew this world was still small but the love and warmth in both of them was so much bigger than the whole World with all its stars and all its shared sky, and part of him, a part that was growing by the minute, wasn’t sure how it was that he had ever wanted to leave.

He shifted, to try to lay a little more flat without jarring them, to rest his head on a pillow to sleep, but wriggling down lower yanked all the lingering damage in his side back to the forefront of his mind and he _gasped_ , choking on a full-throated cry of pain, strangling it off before he could wake them. He pushed a hand to his side, cursing vibrantly and fluently in the privacy of his own mind. His ribs still felt cracked and blackened and his skin itched terribly where Xemnas’ blade had burned into him, phasing through his clothes to strike at flesh and heart.

He carefully extracted himself, his side _aching_ as he slid Sora’s fingers out of the cuff of his vest (seriously, how) and very gently pulled his arm out from around Kairi, freezing as Sora stretched once, curled his arm tighter around her shoulders, and settled back down again, only sighing with relief when they both leaned against each other, apparently happy to stay where they were.

Riku turned, opening his mouth only long enough to let out a soundless wail as he cupped his hand to his side and limped to the hall bathroom, the rawness of it rattling up and down all his bones, his hip throbbing uselessly.

He flicked the light on, blinked at the brightness of it, and bit down on his hand to keep from making more noises as he cautiously tugged down the zipper of his shirt, trying to slide out of both layers with as little movement as possible.

The burn was even uglier in the mirror and the glaring incandescent bulbs than he expected, his skin violently red and startlingly hot to the touch when he pressed a hand to it and let out a breath.

“Holy shit,” he hissed, turning to try to see, and a shuffling noise from the hall made him stop dead, praying he had misheard.

“Riku?”

Her voice was soft and cloudy with sleep and he slowly pivoted, one hand to his side as if he might hide the damage. Why, _why_ had he not closed the door.

“I’m so sorry,” he said first, voice catching on air when he saw her face, a little smile tugging at her lips as she rubbed an arm sleepily across her eyes. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” she asked, and he opened his mouth to push her away.

_Yes. I’m fine. Just got up for a cup of water. Go back to sleep._

All of them tasted like ash and Ansem and he threw the lies away like they were what had burned him, not Xemnas’ crackling red swords.

“I might’ve… mm… _left out_ something that happened during the fight,” he mumbled.

Her sleepy smile faded just a little bit and she looked up at him, blinking, rapidly catching up to full wakefulness, and he hadn’t realized she’d gotten so much taller until he realized she was only a few inches below eye level, not almost a foot. Her definitely-no-longer-a-smile look gave way to a frown of concern and his heart broke just a little.

“What’s wrong, Riku?” she asked, and her gaze flicked down when he moved, following his hand as he cautiously pulled it away from his side. Her breath caught, sharp and painful and louder than she probably intended, and his attempt at a sheepish grin faltered and stumbled instead into a pained, awkward grimace.

“It… looks worse than it is?” he tried, and she gave him that _look_ , that “don’t you even start with me” look that she used to get now and then when she was bandaging one of them up after sparring on the play island.

“Here,” she said, slipping in past him to crouch down and sort through the bottles and bags under the sink, grabbing a small towel and soaking it in cold water. The pipes groaned once as she turned on the faucet, apparently annoyed at having to work somewhere in the vicinity of three in the morning. He was inclined to agree.

She wrung the cloth out and turned to him again, and he steeled himself, sucking in a breath, and she chewed thoughtfully on the inside of her cheek. “This’ll probably hurt,” she warned him, and he nodded, reaching out to hold onto the towel rack, just to have something to hold. She paused for a half-second longer, shook her head as if dispelling some thought she wasn’t inclined to share, braced one hand against his chest to steady herself, and gently set the cloth to his burnt skin.

To his horror, the noise he made was a long, high-pitched whine.

To his credit, the _only_ noise he made was a long, high-pitched whine.

“Shh,” she murmured, as his grip on the metal bar tightened until his knuckles lost all color, his other hand weakly pawing out to find the shower curtain and tangle into it. “Don’t pull that,” she added absently, all her focus on very carefully pressing the cloth across the burn, smoothing out the edges until it was stuck to his skin by its own weight and water. He begrudgingly moved his hand to instead tangle in the back of her shirt. Her face went from pale and focused to bright red and focused, but he had the good grace not to point it out. Her fingers, brushing over the cloth more nervously now, glowed whitish-gold, and he felt something, deep down in his chest, a crackle of light and dark, a surge of heat in his heart like an idea sparking over into truth.

She let the cloth sit for a minute, straightening up a little to look at him, though she didn’t pull her hand off his chest, and somehow he didn’t mind so much.

“Kairi,” he said, all his thoughts turning to shadows and smoke when he tried to keep going.

“Yeah,” she said, as if she knew all his pauses by heart. She smiled.

“You and Sora,” he said, as if this was a perfectly valid, compelling counterpoint to an argument she hadn’t even given.

“You, me, _and_ Sora,” she said, as if this were blindingly obvious.

Maybe it was.

She rested her forehead against his shoulder for a moment, then sighed softly, breath warm against his skin, and pulled away to take the towel away. His skin was puckered and tight like a healing scar, but it wasn’t quite so red anymore, and his ribs didn’t ache quite so much. He twisted, curious, squinting at it, and she chewed on the tip of her thumb.

“Better?” she asked, fretting.

He took her hands, pulling them away from her mouth, and held them in his.

“ _Way_ better,” he said, and where his smile for his family was just a little fake, just a little raw, when she looked up at him and _beamed_ and smiled back, he knew that this time, here, just for her, just for her and for Sora, his smiles were real and open and felt like coming home.

She led him back to bed, crawling up next to Sora so that Riku could lie down behind her, tugging a blanket up over all three of them even as Sora shifted and fidgeted and yawned, squinting through the darkness at them.

“You guys okay?” he asked, cutting off with a little noise of surprise when Kairi’s lips touched the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah,” she said, and Sora’s hand patted to her shoulder, then to Riku’s, and a little questioning sound caught in his throat when he realized Riku’s vest was gone, but Riku hummed a little, and Sora hummed back, settling with his arm across them both and his fingers tucking against Riku’s shoulder blade to pull them all closer together.

“Cool,” Sora mumbled, burying his face in Kairi’s hair. “Tell me in the morning?”

“Mm,” Riku said, yawning and tucking his head against the pillow and Sora’s other hand.

“Cool.”


End file.
